She hadn't even been able to send a message before she'd been whisked off to the target location; but she and Valeera had always known that danger existed. It had been hard enough for Tess to convince the other Shadowblades that if anyone was going to kill her father, it would be her, and she hadn't wanted to press her luck.

The Uncrowned moved people like chess pieces across a global game board and her piece was moving through the forest, another assassin to her left and a few paces behind. With Valeera distracted in Northrend, and the Scourge threat apparently neutralized, it had been decided it was time to move.

Tess was half convinced Alleria and Liadrin's disappearance was part of the plan, but she wouldn't be sure. Technically, she and Valeera were on opposite sides, but the other members of the Uncrowned were less than trusting of her.

"The others should have him cornered by now," the man whispered, and Tess rested her palm on the hilt of a dagger. "I know you two don't get along, I mean, I get that, my own pop and me get into screaming matches. But sticking him? That takes balls, princess."

Tess smiled tensely, not daring to let him see her eyes or face as she replied. "If it leads to a more stable Azeroth, it's worth it, isn't it? I joined the Uncrowned knowing what it is we do behind the scenes. I'm not one to shirk my responsibilities." The joke was on him, considering how often she'd done that growing up. "Besides, at least this way I know no one's going to...play with their food."

"Yes! Precisely! We need someone who understands our values, someone who can take over the throne of Gilneas and guide it into the new era. Someone, of course, who's cooperative, isn't that right, Queen Greymane?"

She hoped the darkness was enough to hide the way she stiffened.

If her tail noticed, he gave no indication. The man sounded almost bored. "I'm sure the Lady Crowley would agree."

"Yes," Tess replied, eyes widening as her mind raced. "Yes, I suppose she would."

Even with his enhanced vision, Genn could barely make out the figures in the shadows. They were smart enough to be downwind, so he couldn't scent them, and they used the trees to disguise their movements, making it harder to track or identify them.

He'd led them into the woods, away from Mia and their guests. That unfortunately left him without guards and with a wound in his leg that slowed him down. From the creeping feeling of ice in his blood, it had probably been some kind of poison. Genn ran faster, dodging trees and bushes, leaping over a fallen log, propelled on four powerful limbs.

At least one of the assassins seemed capable of keeping up, and Genn could catch glimpses of glowing green eyes.

He careened into a clearing, narrowly avoiding a snare trap. The effort sent him crashing into the underbrush. Slowly, he picked himself up, baring his teeth and readying himself for a fight. This was far enough. "At least have the self-respect to show your faces before I kill you!"

To his right, the brush moved and swayed, a wolf trotting out and staring at him. No, not a wolf...

That woodland scout who'd gone almost fully feral. He couldn't remember her name, and didn't particularly care.

The second emerged to his left, a tall, lanky elf with shockingly red hair slicked back into a braid. There was a smile on his face, the kind which aggravated Genn to no end. "Happy now, old wolf?"

At least neither of them were Forsaken. That would have just been insulting.

Lorna was in trouble. That threat had been more than clear, and Tess ignored the fear that ran down her spine as she ran through possible scenarios.

Maybe it was nothing, maybe her current partner was just that kind of creepy. And even then, this was Lorna; if they'd kidnapped her, it was her captors Tess should worry about.

But worry she did, and it took all her concentration to keep from tripping on roots and rocks. Suddenly her plan seemed less clever, and more foolish. Were they playing her, or she them?

"I hope you don't expect me to just be a puppet queen." She jumped up, grasping onto a branch and swinging herself up. "Yes, our goals align, but I have to keep the wellbeing of Gilneas in mind."

"Of course, princess."

Gods, she hated when people called her princess. It wasn't her fault she was royalty. If given half a chance she'd be inclined to do away with the whole thing entirely. There was something to be admired about the approach Harleen had introduced the Goblins to, or something more like the Council of Three Hammers. Tess had once spent three hours arguing with Falstad and Moira about just doing away with the royal house and adding a few more members to the council, elected by the people.

She'd often thought about what she'd do when her father eventually passed. As Queen, she'd have the right to govern as she chose. She wanted a council, chosen by the people, and then gradually she'd reduce her power until the King or Queen were no more than figureheads.

Royalty had done nothing but get Azeroth in trouble for millenia.

But that didn't mean she wanted to see him dead. He was an asshole, but he was still her father. Even if he would definitely need to be dead and buried before she implemented any sort of reforms.

Tess paused, perched on a branch as she surveyed a clearing ahead. "We should have come across them by now. Are you sure this is the right place?"

"You're definitely in the right place."

She looked around, trying to place where the voice was coming from. But the man had melted into the shadows and his voice was impossible to pinpoint. Tess dropped from the tree and slowly edged into the clearing. There was nobody here except for a confused looking squirrel.

Tess drew her blades. "My father isn't here."

"He's a few thousand miles away and probably bleeding out by now." The voice seemed to come from her left, and she kept one eye and ear angled in that direction as she tried to avoid putting her back to the forest. "We just had to make sure you wouldn't do something stupid. Oh, you can still prove your loyalty, but it will be with a different target."

"Screw my father, where is my wife?"

"Safe."

"Somehow I doubt that."

The man didn't answer her at first, and Tess felt unease worming its way through her belly. Her grip tightened, and she closed her eyes to instead rely on her other senses.

"She will remain safe, as long as you continue to cooperate."

"What do you need me to do?" She stopped moving, still straining to detect his presence. She knew if she killed him, Lorna's life would be in danger. At the least, she needed him alive long enough to learn where she was.

He didn't answer, and Tess opened her eyes. "I asked you a question."

Silence.

"...Hello?"

A shrouded figure stepped out from between two trees. Lorna pulled her hood back and grinned cockily. "Did you really think it would be that easy to keep me captive? I'm almost insulted."

"My name is Rialor," the elf said, pressing his hand to his chest and giving Genn a short, almost respectful bow. "Talet you know, I suspect. Or do you?"

"A half-feral traitor who forgot what it means to be civilized," Genn spit. Talet's ears snapped forward and her gaze sharpened. Good, he'd struck a mark. "It matters not to me. Let's get this over with, I was looking forward to dinner."

"Valeera Sanguinar values her independence so dearly that, in her arrogance, she makes one fatal mistake." Rialor rolled his eyes, shoulders relaxed and seemingly in no hurry to escalate the fight. "She thinks she's the only person in the world whose loyalties are their own. Perhaps if either of you listened to your people, none of this would come as a surprise. I've spent a lot of time talking with your erstwhile countrywoman." He glanced at Talet with a genuinely fond expression. "Granted, I've done most of the talking, but it was still enlightening."

Genn growled, but the warning went unheeded.

"Whose fault was it, again, that the Curse ravaged Gilneas?" Rialor smiled, drawing a thick, wide blade and flipping it from hand to hand. "You sought to create weapons to keep the Scourge at bay. Well congratulations, you created a weapon, and then got your fool ass bit."

He gestured at Talet. "You call her feral, but she was wild. And whose fault was that? Bitten at the age of twelve, barely more than a child—by the monsters her king had created. Thank goodness for the kaldorei, no? Operating without your knowledge and against your orders, of course—the country might be ravaged by your own corrupted people, terrified and out of control and unable to defend themselves, but Light forbid you allow elves in to provide desperately-needed aid. One must draw the line somewhere, after all."

Rialor's blade dance was hypnotizing, but it was clearly designed to be, and Genn ignored most of it. Grandstanders who talked too much didn't become assassins; the whelp was a distraction. He kept an eye on the dark-coated female circling him. No flashy daggers on that one, only a blackened steel handaxe; and Genn had been challenged enough to know how the ritual went.

A snarling wolf was one that could still be reasoned with. The purpose of a threat display was to scare the target into backing off.

A wolf that was dead silent was no longer interested in surrender.

"Your friend can't speak for herself?" he growled.

"I don't believe she has anything to say to you. The Scythe of Elune is an amazing artifact," Rialor mused as if the interruption hadn't happened. "Though it requires the target to be subdued first. Easier done when they're a scrawny pup with paws too big for them. And then she was trapped, forced to hide herself for yours. Stable and sane, King Greymane, and a child of your own kingdom—but you know very well how much that would have mattered, should anyone have learned what she is. By your orders, or so I'm told."

"That was a long time ago, and it was to protect the citizens of Gilneas."

For the first time, he got a rippling snarl from the shadows.

"Like me?!"

"Twenty silver a pelt, Greymane." The elf's lip curled slightly. "Every one of them belonging to your own people. And all the while your curse was eased by experimental potions...that you never made public. Someone might have asked why you had them."

That blade bounced back and forth, while Genn watched green eyes pace in the shadows. "Is this the part where you tell me it's some irony that this is how I'm going to die?"

"Can you imagine? She's wanted this for years." Rialor's voice lowered, becoming gravelly and infused with passion. "The chance to tear out your throat and make you suffer as she has, to spill your blood in payment for all the blood you've watered Azeroth with. It's frankly … beautiful. Admit it, your majesty. You deserve this."

"Maybe." Genn's head swiveled. "But do you think you could take me, pup?"

Talet didn't so much as blink. "Yes."

"Which of you do you imagine has more experience putting down aggressive male worgen?" Much as Genn hated to admit it, the smug elf had a point. Maybe, if it wasn't for the poison in his leg... "The king, or the fur trapper too human to run with the pack and too wolf to live anywhere that might have protected her?"

The darkened axe spun once, a businesslike adjustment. Genn, accustomed to using his heightened senses to run rapid-fire threat assessments, was beginning to find her unbroken eye contact unnerving.

"You cursed your people. Let's hope your daughter is clever enough to work—"

There was a flash of movement, and Rialor was abruptly cut off by the axe embedded in his throat.

Talet yanked her weapon free and shoved him to the ground. Her eyes flicked to Genn, hatred and disdain swirling within them. She pulled out a vial of a weak healing potion, enough to counter the toxin and very little else, and flung it in his direction.

Genn managed to grab the little bottle out of the air without fumbling it, reacting mostly by reflex as his brain caught up. The assassins' double agent had been better at her job than they realized, it seemed.

He managed a rough, rueful laugh, heartbeat racing as the adrenaline started to wear off. "You know," he said with a wry smile. "You could have done that a little sooner, if you didn't actually want me dead. Nearly did me in with a heart attack, girl. You really had me believing all that—"

Yellow teeth snapped an inch from his face, moonlight glinting off the edge of a bloody axe.

"What the hell!"

"Wanting something doesn't give me the right to take it." Talet looked up as a shadow passed overhead, and then dove towards them. A snow-white gryphon landed nearby, its rider guiding it protectively between Genn and the faintly trembling rogue. Arcane runes illuminated the clearing as she called up a portal.

"If you're going to Stormwind," the mage said curtly, "Do it now. Otherwise you can walk."

Genn's shoulders tensed, his eyes widening. This couldn't be an isolated incident.

"Anduin."

"-gency meeting in Stormwind," someone was saying. Sylvanas ignored him, her eyes focused on the faint yellow of her erstwhile assassin's.

The new Forsaken blinked, jerking back reflexively as she took in the people staring at her. She looked down at her trembling hands, then brought them to her face. "I had a stone!"

"Prove it," Sylvanas hissed. "However, there is ample evidence that you attempted to kill the Warchief of the Horde. And you succeeded in killing the leader of the Orcs."

She gestured at the newly risen Cromush. "Though he's looking better than he ever has, if I say so myself.."

Cromush grinned, cracking his knuckles as he approached. "Welcome back, little lady."

Harleen frowned, clearly uncomfortable. "I know she was tryin' to kill ya an' everything, but ain't it kinda skeevy jus' ressin' her like this?"

"I'll kill her again if she wishes," Sylvanas promised, her eyes still locked on the woman's. She leaned forward. "What is your name."

Though the woman tried to resist, it was more command than question. The words were pulled from her lips. "Laura Ramsey."

"Hello, Laura." Sylvanas straightened. She sounded almost gentle "That's a good start. Who are you working for?"

Laura closed her eyes, gritting her teeth.

Sylvanas's voice echoed through the Hold, firm and commanding. "Who are you working for?"

Again, Laura resisted, until she tilted her head back and gasped, "The Shadow Leader."

"Typical." Sylvanas reached down, caressing Laura's cheek and forcing her to meet her eyes. "Who is the Shadow Leader."

Black ichor oozed out of Laura's nose as the command echoed through her mind. She held Sylvanas's gaze and spat out, "I don't know. Only the council knows."

"A shadow leader and a shadow council?" Cromush flexed his hands. "Where can we find them?"

"Dalaran sewers." This time it took less of a command for Laura to answer. "But they're probably long gone by now."

"What do they hope to accomplish?"

Laura's smile was slightly unhinged. "A new world order."

Sylvanas glanced back at Harleen. "Emergency meeting in Stormwind, I believe?"

"Yeah, we ain't the only ones cleanin' up a mess."

"Someone pick up this trash. I'll take her with us…" Sylvanas looked thoughtful. "And I'll bring a Valkyr, just in case."